


The Things We Spoke About At 3:00 a.m

by muchofeels



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, I mean, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, One Shot, Suicide Hotline, There is no smut in this, possible triggers, this is sorta an AU, trigger warning, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3509780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchofeels/pseuds/muchofeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard Way calls- or thinks he calls- a suicide hotline. Except, it's Frank. Deep things are disclosed and cereal is spilled. What will happen the morning after? (This was really hard to describe, it isn't as bad as it sounds, I promise)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Spoke About At 3:00 a.m

**Author's Note:**

> In light of something that happened, I decided to write something cute with a dark undertone. I just really hope you like it.

It was the middle of the night when the sound of Fall Out Boy’s “ _Hum Hallelujah”_ tore Frank from the sleep he had tried so hard to settle into. He rolled over and roughly snatched the device off the charger, he squinted through the brightness to try and decipher the digits. The drowsiness was fucking up his eyesight and Frank quickly gave up on trying to recognize the number and just answered.

“Hello?” He almost growled.

There was no response, only laboured breathing. The sound confused the 24 year old so much he sat up.

“Hello?” He tried again.

The mic on the other end picked up a small whimpering sound and then someone spoke. “I swear I’m trying, so before you say anything, just know I am.”

Frank furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about?”

“I called here a week ago and someone told me to try- I am. But- I just want to end it.”

The last sentence made it clear that whoever was on the other end of the call had meant to dial a suicide hotline and messed up somewhere along the way. But there was no way in hell that Frank was telling this guy that. He made the decision to talk him down as best he could.

“You don’t want to do that- What’s your name?”

“Gerard.”

“You don’t want to do that, Gerard.”

“Why? Give me one good reason.’

“Easy, you got any family?”

“Yeah. Mum, dad, a brother.”

“What’s your brother’s name? Are you guys close?”

“His name’s Mikey and yeah, we’re- we’re best friends.”

“That is your one reason, Gerard. You gotta stay for him. I- okay. Wait- how old are the both of you?"

"I'm 28 and Mikey's 25."

"Alright, so picture this: Mikey wakes up one morning, it’s raining out, it's cold, and he's thinking about how when the two of you were younger, days like that were spent driving around in your car, listening to music way too loud.

"He starts wondering what you're doing today- maybe you guys could go out and do that like old times. He showers, eats a small breakfast, and then calls you. You don't answer. He thinks it's weird but you've been known to sleep in so he doesn't question it."

"Since he's got a key to your house, Mikey gets in his car and drives over. He gets in and calls your name- you don't answer. He checks to see if your car is there, it is, so he begins to worry."

"He's searching through your house until he stumbles across the scene.”

Gerard then spoke for the first time since telling Frank his age. His voice is barely a whisper when he asks, "What does he see?"

"You're in the bathtub, empty pill bottle in your hand that's hanging out of the tub. Mikey will frantically call 9-1-1, they'll rush you to the hospital even though they all know it's too late. They do it mostly for Mikey who is shaking and crying and asking if you're okay and to ride in the ambulance with you.”

"He gets thrown into a pit of dep-"

"Stop. Please- please. I can't... I can't now."

Frank hesitated before he spoke again. “Don’t hang up. Talk to me until you fall asleep.”

He can almost hear the other man cocking his head at the request. His only response, however, was, “But I’m not tired.”

“I want you to go change into pajamas right now.”

“I- What? How do you know I’m not-”

“Because you’re wide awake at 3:00 a.m. Trust me, I know how this thing works- I’ve been there.”

Gerard groaned in defeat and grumbled a “Fine.” before he put the phone on speaker. Frank could hear the muffled sound of zipper and then a relaxed sigh of relief.

“Back.” He coughed, already sounding a little bit more drowsy.

“Better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now, how about you climb in bed, turn off the light and get under the covers.”

Gerard reported that he’d done so, commenting about how he couldn’t remember the last time his bed had felt this comfortable.

“I take a while to fall asleep,” He began. “So what do you want to talk about in the mean time?”

Although no one could see him, Frank shrugged. “Tell me about your ambitions.”

“You sure? That could take a while.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Gerard blushed and thanked god that the operator was unable to see him. “Well, I really love art. I was actually going to school to become an artist. I do mostly comic books, cartoons, things like that. I really, really loved it. Drawing was a great way for me to be distracted from… myself, my thoughts.”

“You keep saying things in past tense. Did something happen?”

“Yeah, I found out I can write. My brother was over and saw this poem I’d written. He said it was better than anything he’d read in school. So, I took to writing more- began songs that just started out as broken fragments, those eventually turned into verses and choruses and those turned into full songs. After I’d written maybe four, I went to my storage unit and dragged out this old guitar I got when I was fifteen. Added some chords, asked Mikey to play some bass for the tracks, and then my childhood friend, Ray, plays guitar so we added him in there and then  - _BAM!_ \- I had four songs recorded.”

“So you’re in a band?”

“What? No, nothing like that.”

“Why not?”

“I recorded those songs, but I never said I was a good singer.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“Seriously, I’m not that good. My vocal training goes as far as two years in chorus my freshman and sophomore year of high school.”

“If you’re so bad, prove it.”

“You wanna hear me sing?” Gerard laughed.

“Fuck yeah, I do!”

At Frank’s response all humor drained from his tone and if the two of them could see each other, the colour would have drained from his face as well. “You serious?” It was barely a whisper.

“As a heart attack.”

“I- well. Uh, alright. Just give me a second. What do you want me to sing?”

“One of yours- if you’re comfortable.”

“What the hell, why not? Alright, this is called ‘ _Sleep_ ’ and uh- I used to have really bad night terrors and I wrote this about them. So, here… we.. go…”

Frank was breathless. Literally, Gerard’s voice was fucking beautiful. He’d never heard anything so pure and pristine. The emotion behind the words and authenticity of the way he sang clutched Frank’s heart and he swore that this was the beginning of a crush.

“I- yeah that’s it.”

He was unable to respond for a second, still letting the voice of an angel wash all his sins away.

“You still there?”

“Gerard?”

“Yes?”

“You’re speaking voice is so beautiful, I didn’t think I’d be able to find a sound that could compete with it. And then I heard you sing.”

“Oh my, god. That was so smooth.”

Frank giggled.

“Don’t giggle.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s so cute and it makes me blush like a fifteen year old.”

“Well, you’re the first to say that.”

“Maybe I should call and request to speak to you every night just so that I can remind you. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Hi, my name’s Frank.”

“Hello, Frank.”

There was a short silence that Frank used to ask about the other man’s family. Gerard went on to describe that things were finally getting better with them. When asked why, Gerard began his next story.

“I’m uh- I’m bisexual. The thought of their oldest being with a guy was really scary for them. I’m sure to them it was one thing after another. First my grandmother passed away, I was really close to her and so was Mikey, the loss really fucked us up. Then the bullying got really bad- so bad that in the eleventh grade I attempted suicide. As you can see I failed. I was put in therapy and we found out all these just- disorders that I had. And then I dropped that bomb on them.”

“It was never abusive, I know that’s going to be one of your next questions so I thought I should clear that up. Abuse was never a thing, really. They just didn’t know how to talk to me, or what about. We were really distant for a long while, I moved out and Mikey was the only person I kept in contact with. Then he packed up and moved out here with me. Last Christmas was the first holiday I spent with them and after about ten years, things are getting good with them again.”

“That’s so great. I’m really happy for you. My mum and dad are divorced so I didn’t really have to come out to my dad, it was mostly my mum who- I mean she didn’t take it well, but took it a hell of a lot better than I thought she would.”

“You still talk with her?”

“Uh- no. No there’s too many issues there.” Frank admitted embarrassingly.

“I say try calling her up. It’s really hard but… sometimes it works.”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll find out where you live and hold you down and force you to call her.”

“Oh, is that a promise?”

“Oh shit- I- There you go again, making me blush.”

“Hey, you said it.”

“You said ‘ _move out here_ ’, where exactly is here?”

“Oh, Brooklyn, the not so scary part.”

“Oh!” Frank exclaimed and then coughed in an attempt to hide the super attractive voice crack that just attacked him due to the overload of excitement. “Same, actually. Been here a year or so and I’m still not use to it.”

Gerard laughed and sighed, a new sense of exhaustion hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“I’m getting sleepy…” He mumbled.

“I’m not going anywhere until you’re asleep, okay?”

For the next thirty minutes, the two men talked about the most random shit ever. Why tigers were striped, if zebras were black with white stripes or white with black stripes- they both had very different opinions on that subject, why love was so strong, how crushes were developed, and if soulmates existed. They both agreed on the last one- yes, they did exist.

When Frank was finished describing this myth he’d heard about how humans had soulmates, he heard the sound of quiet snoring. Although he knew it’d be creepy, the brunnette seriously considered falling asleep with his headphones plugged in so that he could listen to Gerard’s breathing.

That sounds a little stalkerish. He thought to himself as he rolled over. Once he got comfortable again, he mumbled a quiet “ _Goodnight_ ” into the mic and might have let an “ _I love you_.” fall from his lips for some odd reason.

 

The next morning Frank woke up way too late. It was 1:30 pm and he was still tired as hell, but he knew that eating was probably something that he should do so he rolled out of bed, grabbed his phone off of the charger, and trudged out to his kitchen.

Cereal was the first meal of the day and the twenty-four year old didn't hide any shame at the fact that he pouted when he reached the end of his Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a toy was absent. With defeat, he landed hard on the couch and flipped on the TV.

He kept glancing at his phone, although he wasn’t too sure why. It’s not like he had a crush on the caller from last night. Or did he? How could he? They’d talked once and it was magical, he’d never felt so comfortable talking to a total stranger, or his friends for that matter or- Okay, maybe there was a _tiny_ crush, a _minuscule_ one. A barely there crush.

But then his phone rang and the cereal went everywhere. There were small squares of deliciousness littering his carpet, his coffee table, and the milk that had spilled in his lap was now soaking through his sleep shorts and into his boxers.

He cringed at the feeling but answered with enthusiasm.  

“Hello?”

“Hi… Uhm, I- I feel really bad about this but I- I called this number last night and I thought it was a suicide hotline, but it was you and you talked me down and I don’t- we- we talked about some pretty deep shit and I just wanted to-”

“Gerard,” Frank interjected.

“Holy shit, you remember my name?”

“How could I forget?”

He could feel the shrug that rolled off of the older man’s shoulder through the phone.

“Frank-”

“I see you remember mine.”

Gerard laughed a little, the sound drenched in anxiety. “Frank, I- I was wondering if liked coffee- FUCK- I mean, I was wondering if you wanted to go out and _get_ some coffee. Not- not if you liked it. I mean, I love coffee, who doesn’t love coffee? Crazy people, okay- a lot of people. I mean, okay. I’m rambling. I’m gonna shut up now.” He let out another nervous laugh.

His heart was doing fucking gymnastics in his chest and he let out an involuntary squeal that he wanted to punch himself over. But Gerard only giggled.

“I’d love that.”

“You know where that Starbucks is on 34th and 6th?”

“You mean the one I go to every morning just so my neighbors think that I leave the house? Of course.”

“Great! Meet there in an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

“You better.”

The line went dead and Frank still had the phone pressed to his ear. Shock was setting in, followed by excitement, and then full blown anxiety.

He hadn’t been on a date since high school and he didn’t even know if this qualified as a date. If Gerard did pay for his drink, he might mean it as a ‘ _Hey, I called you last night and you talked me out of killing myself because I thought you were an operator at a suicide hotline, but you were really just a regular guy that happened to answer my call. No one should have to do that, please let me buy you a coffee in attempt to make up for it._ ’ It didn’t matter though because if Gerard was half as attractive as he sounded, Frank knew this crush-not-crush was going to get out of control the moment he laid eyes on the guy.

He sprung up from his spot, letting the milk run down his legs in an uncomfortable trail. Immediately, Frank flipped on the shower and stripped himself of his clothes, letting the warm water do its best to rid him of his nerves.

It didn’t work. The shower only accomplished getting soap in his eyes and turning his pale flesh a distinct shade of crimson due to the temperature of it.

It’s become a habit to submerge himself in water so hot that when he steps out a lightheaded feeling attacks him. All the other times, Frank knew it was because the steam was messing with his mind, but the first few wobbly steps were taken with the suspicion that meeting Gerard would be too much.

Despite his fear, Frank dressed himself in black skinny jeans, his favourite black and white striped jumper, tied on his shoes and left. He had to jog to catch the subway, but made it even though the action made him lose his breath.

Frank walked through the doors a discombobulated mess. He’d fidgeted with his hair way too much on the tube and now it was sticking out in all the wrong places, his shoes had come untied twice on the way there and he was now so fucking done with them that he was tossing his legs up in a dramatic way to avoid tripping on them. And to top it all off, his shirt had gotten caught on a tree branch and had torn a seem.

He drunkenly stumbled to a table and sat down forcibly, burying his face in his hands as he did so.

“You okay?” Someone asked him.

“I-” Frank looked up and gasped. Never had he even see someone so exquisite.

The other man cocked his head. “What?”

“Sorry, you just-” Frank quickly pushed away any thoughts of fucking strong the magnetic pull to this unnatural redhead was and cleared his throat. “I really like your hair.”

 _Nice save._ He thought.

The other man smirked and flicked his neck to the side to get his fringe out of his eyes. “Thanks,” He smiled. “May I sit?”

“Sorry, I- I’m waiting for someone.”

“Oh? Want me to help you? What do they look like?”

Frank laughed nervously and covered his face, letting his words seep into his palms. “That’s the thing,” he began. “I’ve no clue. I talked to him last night and we said we were gonna meet here.”

“Hmm…” The redheaded man said with a cock of his hip. “Well, I’m guessing he’s wearing dark skinny jeans, an Iron Maiden shirt, and a leather jacket with some all black converse. His hair is probably bright red as he just dyed it a few nights ago and he’s trying to described himself to this guy at table who still has his face in his hands.”

Frank slowly removed his face from his hands and dragged his eyes up the body of the male in front of him. His focus first zeroed in on those lips of his. They were so pink and his top one, which was thinner than the bottom, curved into the perfect heart. After letting his eyes scavenge those plush little things, his iris’ focused on Gerard’s. A perfect mix of green, blue, and yellow. They were hypnotizing and almost put Frank in a coma.

“You’re just as beautiful as I pictured.” He mumbled, he thought mostly to himself. But when he saw the pink tint colour Gerard’s porcelain cheeks he knew that his comment had not gone unheard.

The cherry hair coloured man timidly wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, causing breathing problems for Frank not just because his face and nose were being pushed into his midsection.

The small framed male pulled away and let his eyes shoot to the empty chair on the other end of the table.

Frank kicked it out with his foot and smiled. “Be my guest.”

Gerard settled down and let his eyes focus on his shoelaces, doing an awful job at hiding the fact that his cheeks were turning a shade of red only slightly lighter than his hair.

“I don’t mean to stare…” Frank began, the sentence catching Gerard’s attention. “But you’re so gorgeous.”

“Me?” He took the ends of his dyed hair between his fingers and examined them. A disgruntled sigh escaped his throat. “Yeah, fraying hair is just _gorgeous_.”

Frank leaned forward a bit. “Well, I think it looks good and gorgeous is a complete understatement.”

“You’re only saying that.” He brushed off the compliment.

“Am not! You’re the most exquisite thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Keep going at this rate and you’ll be in my pants before we leave here.”

“Who said that wasn’t my intention- OHMYGOD. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean that- Not that- not that I wouldn’t like to get into your pants. I’m sure you’re excellent in bed. But I’d also like to cuddle you and get you hot chocolate on cold nights. And on nights like last night I’d- OHMYGOD. WHY AM I SAYING THESE THINGS TO YOU?” He once again hid his face with his hands. “I should just leave. I’m sure I’ve scared you off.” Frank went to get up but halted when he felt slender fingers wrap around his wrist, tugging his person back.

“Please don’t leave me. At least, not right now, before we’ve even got the chance to know each other.”

One look into those hazel eyes and he had to stay- it was impossible to decline an offer from a pleading look on those perfect features. So the brunette found himself in his previous seat and folded his arms out in front of him.

Relief waved through Gerard’s features and he smiled. “To start off, I would like to formally apologize for last night.”

 ****  
  
**_Six Months Later_ ** **  
**

Moving Gerard’s things from his apartment to Frank’s wasn’t nearly as hard as Gerard made it out to be. It took a total of two days, only because the up and coming artist refused to move his easel before he was finished painting. Something about messing up his creative energy. Frank didn’t know what that meant, but he wasn’t going to argue with art- or more importantly, his _boyfriend_.

Things were going very well for a couple who started of on probably one of the worst notes. In reality, the pair had never been happier. Gerard even said so, on their six months anniversary.

Frank had gone all out, food, soda (as Gerard did not drink), and some vanilla ice cream with caramel syrup.

“Oh, I- I really like this pizza that you’ve prepared.” Gerard commented as Frank put a slice in front of him.

“Yes. I _slaved_ over it for _hours_ , my love. Just for you.”

“I’m sure of it.”

“It’s true. I called in advance for it.”

“And there it is. Frankie, you know I love you, but you can’t cook worth a damn.”

“I know. That’s your job. But I very well couldn’t have called you to cook for our anniversary, could I?”

Gerard took a bite of his pizza and smiled at the man across the table. “No, I suppose not.”

“Gerard, I-”

“Oh, god. You’re not asking me to marry you, are you?”

Frank nearly choked, first of shock and then of laughter. “Oh my, god! No! I was getting ready to ask which movie you wanted to watch. I got Dawn of the Dead, Rocky Horror, and Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh, uh-” He looked a bit disappointed, but quickly shook it off. “Uh- Rings. Lord of the Rings.”

“Gee,” Frank reached across the table to take  his boyfriends hand which was quickly retracted when he began gathering plates. “Baby-”

“You go get the movie set up, I’ll be there in a sec.”

Frank, although a bit concerned with the sudden change in the air, made his way to their living room where he threw out some blankets on the couch, fluffed some pillows so the floor and couch was just a sea of comfort, and the pressed play on the DVD player. He settled into his spot and waited for his love to re-emerge from their kitchen.

“Hey,” He said with a cautious smile.

Gerard returned the smile and settled in next to Frank who immediately wrapped his arm over the slightly larger mans waist and pressed his head to his chest, hard enough to feel a heartbeat.

Frank loved his boyfriend. With all he had, as a matter of fact. But you know what he didn’t love?

Lord of the fucking Rings.

He just didn’t get why the journey had to be split up into _three movies_. Couldn’t _Afro_ , or whatever his name was, take this mystical ring to _Mount Everest_ in less than three movies? He could. Maybe it was a book thing. Gee had read them all and maybe that’s why he loved it so much.

“Frankie?” Came a broken voice in the middle of the movie.

The sound was so quiet that Frank wasn’t quite sure that his pillow had even said something. But he knew he had when his shoulder was squeezed a bit more tightly and shaken.

“Frankie, you asleep?”

“No, no,” He pushed up slightly to look him in the eyes. “I’m up.”

The redhead peered back at his boyfriend, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he thought. He did that a lot and Frank would never get used to how cute it was.

“I-” Gerard took Frank’s hands in his. “I want you to know that these six months are the happiest I’ve ever been. This-” He pressed his lips to Frank’s index finger. “-is-” his middle. “-the-” pinky finger. “-the longest-” thumb. “-I’ve gone without a suicidal thought. You- Oh god. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if I had dialed that number right. I wouldn’t be me, here. You’ve given me something that no amount of therapy or pills could’ve ever given me.”

“And what’s that?” Frank mused.

The tone in his voice made a smile cross Gerard’s delicate lips. “Happiness, peace, a sense of home. And-” Now he pressed a long kiss to his boyfriends ring finger, closing his eyes. “If you had asked me to marry you, I would have said yes. A thousand times. I would’ve said yes until I was-” He laughed a little and looked down. “Until I was blue in the face and out breathe.”

Frank let a single tear roll down his cheek, which Gerard leaned in and kissed away. His lips moved from his cheek, to the tip of his chin, to his nose, forehead, and then hovered above his mouth.

“I love you.” He mumbled to their almost touching flesh.

“And I love you.” Frank responded.

With that, the slightly taller male locked their lips together. He could feel his other half smile against his mouth, wrapping his arms around his neck and letting himself be pulled onto Gerard’s lap.

Gerard found his hands securely on his back, fingers dancing across the vertebrates. The contact brought a shiver up the smaller boy’s spine and giggled from his lips.

“Music to my ears.” Gerard sighed, looking up lazily to Frank.

He twirled a bit of red hair in his fingers and then cupped Gerard’s cheeks, leaning down and pecking his lips chastely. “I love you.” A peck. “You’re incredible and gorgeous and smart and, “ He took hold of his boyfriends right hand, examining the ring finger. “I am so honored you took pity on a soul like me and let me into your life. Gerard Way, I don’t have a ring right now, but I’m gonna marry you some day.”

His smile lit up the room and blushed. “That a promise?”

“Of course.”


End file.
